Familiaris

by David Wroblewski

There was a photograph of Frank staring grimly at the camera. He was holding up a sirloin steak with his wooden left hand and wielding a meat mallet in his right. “Leave me alone to do my work,” he was quoted as saying. “Or I swear I’ll quit.” He hadn’t been talking to the reporter. The comment was directed at his customers, who had been calling for an appearance at the end of their dinner. The name of the restaurant was Shut Up And Eat.

“That’s because you’re impatient. You always were.” He gestured at the boy as if to make this point. “Also, because you don’t know the first goddamned thing about what it’s like to lose something genuinely good. Because when that happens you won’t feel despair. You won’t feel confusion. When that happens it will break you into pieces. Do you understand? If you want to go after something genuinely good, you’re going to need to get stronger. Right now you’re willing to work hard only so long as you feel smart. The moment you feel dumb, you start to run away like a scared chicken. As if being dumb was the worst thing in the world. bawk! bawk! bawk!”

whom grew into soulful companions, would have made a fine choice, certainly better than none at all, but to John and Mary that would have sounded unforgivably cavalier. Because they could also have said, You can never watch too many pups climb through the straw for the first time, but there are just so many dogs you can bear to watch die.